


Cabeceo

by Nox (Sheut)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I also like ladies in dresses, I like ladies in suits, Tango, Useless gays flirting like children, not the horizontal kind tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 21:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheut/pseuds/Nox
Summary: Lena hates working the room at charity galas. Boring people, boring music, and not much more to do than hold up the wall and trying to look interested.When Widowmaker makes an appearance, though, boring is the last word that Lena would use use to describe the evening.





	Cabeceo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeroInvador](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroInvador/gifts).



Black suits scurry across the floor beneath her, and for what feels like the millionth time that night, Lena stifles a yawn. She leans against the ornate barrier, idly walking two fingers through the air, the small dots ants to her small private game. She shifts on her feet and checks her watch - these events always drag on for too long. 

Almost time.

Huffing a sigh, Lena glances across the venue once more. Most guests have consolidated into small groups by now, chatter filling the air as they move through the motions of the night, some taking to the dance floor, some to the food, and others to the bar. Her gaze lingers on the bar wistfully. Security detail jobs like these are usually uneventful, and always better with some booze in her.

It’s then that she spots her.

A deep purple backless dress that stands out in a sea of black and white, inky raven hair gathered into a messy bun at the top of her head, an all-too familiar tattoo adorning defined muscles. 

Lena lets her eyes slide down the lithe figure, down to the thighs where the slit parts and shows an expanse of cyan skin as the woman crosses her legs. Blue fingers swirl a glass of red wine slowly before lifting it up to plump, purple lips, and Lena drinks in the bob of her throat as she takes a sip.

A hand at her shoulder pulls her attention away, and she turns around to find herself looking at an expressionless visor.

“All well, Lena?” Genji asks, and she grins.

“ _ Please _ tell me you’re here to take over?” she asks, half joking, half pleading. 

The cyborg’s shoulders shake in a silent laugh as he joins her in leaning against the railing and looking over. “I am,” he admits with mirth in his voice. “Bored?”

She sighs and slumps theatrically. “That’s the best damn news I’ve heard all evenin’!  An hour more and you’d have to get Angie to rez me. Can you imagine the headlines?” 

She lifts her hand, miming holding a microphone and puts on her best news reporter voice. “Decorated Overwatch agent Tracer was found dead at the annual charity gala in London. Eyewitnesses claim crippling boredom to be the cause. Mr Shimada is here with a statement from Overwatch.” 

She holds her hand out towards Genji expectantly, and he stands up straighter. “Tracer has been revived and is currently in recovery,” he says in a somber tone, “She blames a dry and uneventful evening as the cause of her untimely demise. Overwatch assures that this minor setback will not lead to any performance issues. The gala organizers will be hearing from our lawyers shortly.”

Once the giggles have subsided, Lena pats Genji on the arm and excuses herself, nearly tripping over her own feet as she beelines to the open bar. She spots the woman she was ogling at before and grins. 

Finally, some fun.

She grabs a Sazerac and another glass of Merlot from the bar and stalks over, hopping up onto the bar stool beside the woman. She slides the Merlot across to her, taking a big sip from her own drink. The woman turns, and gold eyes flicker down to the humming blue device strapped over Lena’s suit before meeting her own, lips parting slightly in surprise.

“Evenin’,” Lena says airily, raising her glass slightly in greeting.

Widowmaker reaches and taps against the Merlot with a painted fingernail before pulling it towards herself. “ _ Bonsoir _ ,” she murmurs, lifting her own glass in response. 

“You look lonely.”

She scoffs, electing to take a sip from her wine instead of replying, golden eyes running over Lena - likely looking for concealed weapons. Lena sits back and enjoys her drink, smirking slightly when they snap back to her face. 

She sets her empty glass aside and nods towards the dance floor, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Widowmaker stares at her in silence, an inscrutable look in her eyes. Lena holds her gaze as the seconds tick by. She must arrive to a conclusion, as she sets her own wine glass upon the counter and wordlessly holds out a hand.  

Lena grins, taking it in her own and placing a feather light kiss on the knuckles before she hops off her barstool and pulls Widowmaker with her towards the dance floor. A fast paced tango plays in the background, and Lena feels a nail dig into her palm. She turns quizzically, and is met with a raised eyebrow.

A question.

A _challenge_.  

Her lips curl upwards, and she pulls Widowmaker close against her, placing a hand on her lower back as they begin to dance. Despite the height difference, Widowmaker adapts quickly, an amused look on her face as Lena takes the lead confidently, a warm hand tangling it’s fingers between her cold ones.

“Did not place you to be a dancer, chérie,” she murmurs as Lena leads her into a turn. Lena completes the move and steps in, running a hand over the hard muscle on Widowmaker’s back, fingers tracing the ridges. 

She grins cockily. “Full of surprises, love.” 

They swirl across the dance floor, graceful and intricate, a rhythm as natural as breathing. The song picks up pace and so does Widowmaker - and Lena follows seamlessly. She circles around behind Widowmaker, one hand on her hip and the other resting on her abdomen as they sway to the music. 

“And I didn’t think you’d care much for this borin’ old party, luv,” she breathes against Widowmaker’s tattoo, grinning when Widowmaker’s grip on her hand tightens slightly. She feels a slight push to her sternum as Widowmaker steps away, before turning around with a glint in her eye and Lena can’t help but shiver slightly as she maintains her pose.

Gorgeous.

_ Predatory. _

Widowmaker stalks back with a hypnotizing sway before dropping low beside Lena and slowly,  _ excruciatingly slowly _ , stands up, hands running up Lena’s side. She pauses, leaning in. “As you like to say, full of surprises, chérie,” she whispers with a smirk, lips brushing against Lena’s and breath washing over her face.

She smells of smoke and wine and _danger_ , and it’s absolutely _intoxicating_.

She takes the lead, and Lena can’t help but laugh at the sudden reversal as she’s walked backwards and her breath is stolen away as Widowmaker leads her into an intricate sequence of steps and turns. It reminds Lena of their usual dance on the rooftops. A twisted tango of violence, dancing to the music of gunfire, the leads changing at a heartbeat. 

The song slows down, and she finds herself with her face pressed into Widowmaker’s neck, one arm possessively wrapped around her shoulder. “I wonder”, she breathes, smiling against the skin at the slight swallow, “if you know that I won’t let you succeed tonight.” 

She twists out from underneath Widowmaker’s arm, spinning and pulling Widowmaker against her again, stepping forwards and forcing her partner to step back. Nails dig into her ass and she hisses at the slight pain. 

“And I hope you know that I shall succeed regardless,  _ petite souris, _ ” Widowmaker replies lowly.

Lena grins and pulls Widowmaker into a dip, wrapping a leg around her torso before running one hand reverently up exposed skin and gripping her hip. She leans in, resting her cheek beside Widowmaker’s and whispers, “I look forward to provin’ ya wrong.” She pulls back and smirks in satisfaction at the slight blush on Widowmaker’s cheeks.

The music picks up, and they’re off twirling again, gliding across the dance floor as effortlessly as though the steps were rehearsed beforehand. They reach the edge of the dance floor and Lena grabs a rose from a passing waiter’s tray, sticking it in her mouth and laughing lightly when Widowmaker scoffs and shakes her head. 

They dance, fast and complex, daring each other with tougher steps, delighting when the challenge is met and accepted. All too soon the song ends, and they end up facing each other, chests heaving and faces flushed. 

Lena looks up at Widowmaker with a smile. She stares, and Lena wonders if she should say something. Her question is answered when Widowmaker leans down and kisses her gently, nipping on her bottom lip before pulling away. Lena stares back with wide eyes, and Widowmaker smirks, leaning in once again and grabbing the stem of the rose this time. She winks, and Lena is certain that her face is as red as the rose held between Widowmaker’s teeth. 

Widowmaker walks backwards, disappearing into the crowd with a smirk on her face, a rose between her teeth, and Lena’s breath in her palm.

Lena stares dumbly at the milling sea of black for a long few moments. She touches her lips lightly with one hand, and then laughs loudly, running her free hand through her hair and shaking her head in wonder before heading off in Widowmaker’s pursuit.

_ The chase is on. _

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly just an errant thought that I made the mistake of sharing with Zero and she kinda talked me into actually writing it, the lil shit. I hope you're happy >:[
> 
>  
> 
> [Song insp](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IauwvvczywA)


End file.
